


Happy Birthday, Captain Rogers

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Locked In, Matchmaking, Meddling friends who meddle, Nakedness, Ridiculous, Trope Bingo Round 2, and also awkward, earnest!Steve is earnest, past Darcy/Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All things considered, turning ninety-five is a hell of a lot more fun than turning ninety-four.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Captain Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to blackglass, katertots, Britt1975, and merideath for all talking me through this at one point or another. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, so my bad :|

It was a surprisingly small gathering for a Tony Stark party. When Steve mentioned it, Tony scoffed.

“Hey, it’s your birthday, Cap. I learned my lesson from last year.” Last year, Tony had thrown one of his standard huge to-dos, “for Steve, and for America!” Steve, only a few months removed from the ice, hadn’t been prepared for it, or for the cake loaded with ninety-four candles. He hadn’t caused a scene, exactly, but he’d let Tony know in no uncertain terms what he could do with his party, then he’d shut himself in the gym and worked his way through the tower’s entire stock of punching bags. Later, when all the guests had left the tower, he’d shut himself into his room and cried for all the things, all the people he’d lost. 

This year, he was in a much better place. He was happier with what he was doing with his life, he had friends and a purpose. But he appreciated Tony’s restraint in keeping the party smaller, especially knowing that Tony had probably wanted something big and shiny and ostentatious for the holiday and had held back for Steve’s sake. 

It was just the Avengers, their significant others, and a few SHIELD agents and friends.

In one corner, Carol and Rhodey were regaling Pepper, Coulson, and a few others with increasingly tall tales of their pilot experiences. In another, Bruce was chatting quietly with Wendy, Carol’s assistant. Natasha and Kate were holding a darts competition on the other side of the room. Tony went out to join Thor, Jane, and Dr. Selvig, no doubt to talk science. And then he found her. Darcy. She stood on the deck, huddled around the grill with Bucky and Clint. That was where he wanted to be.

“There’s the birthday boy!” Darcy exclaimed as he joined her. Them. She abandoned her spatula and her argument with Bucky and Clint to wrap her arms around Steve’s waist. As he held her tightly, he hoped she couldn’t hear the familiar acceleration of his heartbeat whenever she was around. She pulled back and smiled brightly. “Happy birthday, old man. You’re how old now?” 

“Ninety-five,” he says with a small smile, choosing to count the missing years. They were part of him, as much as the twenty-seven years before the ice, as much as the year and a half after. Then, realizing maybe she wouldn’t think so romantically about a guy in his ‘90s, he hurried to add, “But really I’m 29. My body is. All of me, really—“

Darcy laughed. “It’s okay, Steve, I get it.” 

Steve saw Bucky, standing behind Darcy, shake his head in disgust. _Really_? Bucky mouthed, and Steve just shrugged helplessly because he might be kickass when it came to bad guys, but when it came to pretty dames… When Darcy turned to see what Steve was looking at, Bucky had already turned back to the grill. 

“Did they grill in the ’30s, Steve?” Darcy demanded. “Because I gotta tell you, Barnes is making a real mess of it over here.” He listened to her argue with Clint and Bucky for the next fifteen minutes before Clint threw up his hands, shoved two plates of slightly charred burgers towards her and told her to keep the birthday boy company. Steve grabbed one plate and her hand before she could argue, partly because he didn’t want to listen to anymore bickering and mostly because he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spend some time with her. Unfortunately, lunch was about the only time they got to spend together that day. After that, it seemed like everyone wanted to claim his attention. Not that he was complaining much. It was nice, being surrounded by friends, by people who cared about him. He’d had this kind of camaraderie once, with the Commandoes, and it was nice to feel that kind of kinship again, even if he’d been hoping to keep Darcy by his side. 

He did get to spend a little more time with her later in the evening, when the fireworks started. He was going to stay back, since he didn’t much like explosions, even the non-violent kinds, but she grabbed his hand and dragged him out with the rest of the crowd. Even with Tony’s boasts that his fireworks would have been much more impressive, it was an almost perfect moment. Steve was conscious of her beside him the whole time, and he found himself watching Darcy’s face as she’d clutched his hand excitedly, grinning like a kid. Maybe he liked fireworks a whole lot after all.

He opened his mouth to say…well, something he’d like to think was roguishly charming but would probably have come out as uncomfortably embarrassing when Jane pulled her away for something and Tony declared that it was time to cut the cake. This time, thankfully, there were only two candles, a 9 and a 5. As Pepper cut the cake, he looked around for Darcy, who was still huddled in a corner with Jane. 

“Just talk to her, punk,” Bucky muttered, stealing the slice of cake Steve had in front of him. Steve stole it back. “I miss when you were smaller than me. But seriously, just tell her you’d like to make whoopie and she’d probably say yes.”

“Shut up, Buck,” Steve hissed, eyes flicking towards Clint, who was standing a few feet away.

Clint looked up and shrugged. “She probably would. Oh, and hey, there’s this thing she really likes during sex where—” He was stopped short by Steve’s glare and shrugged again. “Just trying to be helpful.” Yeah, the last thing he wanted was advice from Darcy’s ex…well, the term she’d used was “fuck buddy,” and he couldn’t think of any other one that fit. It didn’t matter that their relationship, such as it was, ended over a year ago, and that for the most part, both of them acted like it never happened. It still wasn’t something he wanted to hear. The trio ate cake in silence before Clint broke it. “But you know, her neck is a real erogenous zone for her—where are you going?”

Steve shook his head and headed over to the pool table, settling in to watch Tony and Bruce play a round. “You got the winner, Cap?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. “And by winner, I mean me?”

Since Darcy still looked deep in conversation with Jane, Steve nodded, and grinned as Bruce proceeded to wipe the floor with Tony at pool. Tony glared. “What happened to ‘I don’t play much,’” he demanded.

Bruce smirked. “I never said I didn’t play _well_. Captain?”

“I don’t play much,” Steve said with a smile. After that, it was probably one of the longest games Steve had played in his life. Whatever advantage he might have had in strategic thinking, Bruce more than made up for with science. He was disappointed that Darcy left in the middle of the game—she’d come up and given him a hug goodbye—but after that he was consumed with the competition, ignoring the fact that the entire party gathered around to watch as Steve focused on winning. Four hours later, at two a.m., he finally did. Barely. 

Ignoring Tony’s shout for a rematch, he shook Bruce’s hand and said his goodbyes. Most of the party had gone, anyway, and as walked into his apartment he whistled, thinking about how much better this birthday had gone than the last. It might have been perfect if he’d been able to take Bucky’s advice and just make his move with Darcy, but he’d gotten to spend some of the day with her and it was nice. Really nice.  

 As he headed into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, it was like he could hear her call his name. He shook his head. He must have it bad if he was imagining her voice everywhere.

But then he heard the thud coming from the bedroom, and he hurried back out of the bathroom in time to see an enticing flash of bare skin and silken hair as a woman—a naked woman—shoved to her feet and pushed her thick mass of hair out of her face. He didn’t have to hear the muffled curse to recognize her as Darcy.

When she saw him standing there, her eyes went wide. She let out an ear-piercing shriek as she grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself. Absently, he noted the blanket wasn’t one of his.

“You’re naked,” he managed to say, which probably wasn’t the smoothest opening line, but he was having trouble thinking past Darcy, in his room. Naked. Well, mostly naked because now she was covered by a sheet.

Darcy scowled at him. “Yes.”

“You’re in my room.” Again, maybe not the best thing to say, but he congratulated himself on it not being the worst. “Why are you naked in my room?” 

“Your friends are drunks and a menace to society.” He wasn’t entirely certain who she was talking about, but he refrained from pointing out that if they were his friends, they were her friends, too. Somehow he didn’t think she’d appreciate that. “Can I please have something to cover up?”

Steve blushed, and hurried to grab a shirt from one of his drawers. He grabbed a pair of boxers, too, and put them on the bed in front of her before he turned around. He was conscious of every rustle, every movement, and his body reacted to the fact that Darcy was there, in his room in the middle of the night, and she was naked.

“You can turn around now.” Steve did, and the first thing he noticed was that the boxers he’d given her were still on the bed. She followed his gaze and crossed her arms, looking adorably grumpy in his t-shirt which barely hit her mid-thigh. “They wouldn’t stay on, even with my stupid hips.”

Deciding it was probably the better part of valor not to comment on her hips, he dragged his gaze back up to her eyes. By the look in them, she’d driven straight past irritated and was deep in the heart of pretty damned pissed. “What are you doing here?”

“Barnes and Barton.”

He waited for her to say something more, but she tapped her bare toes against the rug impatiently and crossed her arms over her chest, making the hem of the shirt rise up—no, he wouldn’t think of that now. “Barnes and Barton? What do they have to do with this?” Although he had the sneaking suspicion he knew. They’d disappeared sometime in the middle of Steve’s game against Bruce, and they were mostly drunk by that point. It wasn’t all that hard to put together.

“They kidnapped me and dragged me here.” Her tone was conversational, but he knew she was seething, and beyond that, she was mortified.

“They…kidnapped you?” He couldn’t believe it. Well, yes, he could. He just didn’t want to believe it. “I’m sorry.”

She huffed impatiently. “Steve, they snuck into my apartment, wrapped me up like a burrito, and transported me across the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m _naked_ , Steve.”

_I noticed._ So spake his libido. Instead he said, “They didn’t,” even though Steve believed that they really, really did. God. 

“When one of my neighbors stopped them as they were putting me in the car and asked what they were doing, they said ‘Official Avengers business.’ Your friends are deranged.”

Steve closed his eyes and thought of how many ways he’d enjoy ripping Bucky and Clint apart limb from limb. He’d have to let Darcy help, but that was just fine by him. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t understand why they did this.”

“Well if it helps,” Darcy said, aggravated, leaning down to pick up her blanket off the ground, and tearing something off of it, “they pinned this to my blanket. Along with one of those cheap ribbons and a pack of condoms. So.”

Steve took the note from her.

_Steve,_

_If you play your cards right, there’ll definitely be some other fireworks tonight._ _Happy birthday, geezer!_

_Bucky and Clint_

“They spell surprisingly well for being drunk out of their minds,” he muttered. “I had no idea they were going to do this. I’m—“

Darcy cut him off. “If you apologize again, I think I might scream. Can you just get me home?”

“Yeah. So—I mean, sure. I’ve got a car in the garage.” He pulled a robe out of his closet and wrapped it around Darcy. “I figured you’d be more comfortable walking down the hall in this.”

“Thanks, Steve,” she said, and it was her first real smile since she’d rolled off the bed. He ushered her out of the bedroom and to the front door.

“There are probably still some celebrations going on,” Steve said as they reached the door, “but there shouldn’t be too much traff—what the hell?” He pressed the button on the control panel to open the sliding doors again, but it didn’t budge. He pressed it harder. Still nothing.

Darcy looked up at him in alarm. “What?”

“The door’s stuck.”

“Did you unlock it?”

He sent her a baleful glare. “Of course I unlocked it. It’s stuck.”

“Let me try,” she demanded, something close to panic coloring her voice. She pushed past him to get to the panel, jabbing at the button, then poking at it repeatedly. When that didn’t work, she stuck her fingers into the gap between the door and tried to pry it open. Then she kicked it, howling as she stubbed her toe against the metal door. Despite the fact she was hopping around in pain, she looked like she was rearing back to kick it again, and that was when Steve lifted her up and away from the offending entryway. 

“And that’s enough of that,” he said, holding onto her shoulders firmly. He didn’t even bother trying to break down the door—all of the residential doors had been reinforced and made Thor-proof since Thor’s first visit after the battle against Loki and the Chitauri. He had been so excited to be back, when he’d knocked a little to enthusiastically on Steve’s door and knocked the doors down.

“JARVIS?” he called, because the AI responded to all of the Tower’s residents. 

“Sir?” The crisp British accent filled the air.

“There appears to be something wrong with the controls in my room and I can’t get my front door open,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice calm. Darcy was already pissed off, rightfully so, and he didn’t want to make that any worse. “Can you open it for me, please?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”

Steve made a strangled noise. “Can’t?”

“Indeed, sir. I’m under orders to keep the doors closed at all times tonight.”

“By who?” Steve bit out through gritted teeth.

“I am not authorized to tell you that, sir.”

“JARVIS, open the door. Please.”

“Have a good evening, sir.”

“JARVIS, you open this door right now!” Darcy shouted. “Right this second!” There was no answer. “Damn it!” She plopped onto the couch, staring angrily at the ceiling. Steve perched next to her. They sat there in silence, and Steve contemplated what he should say. Sure he’d dealt with some strange situations in his life, not the least of which included celebrating his ninety-fifth birthday with a bunch of superheroes, but none of this situations ever prepared him for how to deal with having the woman he…lusted after? admired? was romantically interested in? “Liked” was juvenile and too weak a word, “love” was far too strong. But in any case, no situation had ever prepared him for dealing with Darcy, locked in his apartment.

_Naked_.

Because that thought was never far from his mind.

So of course when the silence had grown to be unbearable, Steve had to ask, “Why are you naked?”

He didn’t know how it was possible for her to turn her head with quite that degree of lethal intent. Maybe she’d been taking lessons from Nat. All that he knew for sure was that look said, _Really? You’re asking this question now?_ Definitely not the best time for this. “I’m not naked right now,” she bit out. “And it’s summer. Not all of us can live in the lap of luxury, you know, so we have to make do with things like sleeping naked. Is that a problem?”

“No,” he said meekly. God, what was he going to do now that _that_ image was in his head. Darcy, spread across her bed, all smooth skin and lush curves, and oh damn it, this was not the time for a hard-on.

Darcy was the one who broke the silence next. “This is a fire hazard. You know that, right? Like if there were a fire right now or some other disaster, we’d be dead. Deader than dead. It’s dangerous.”

“If there was an emergency, I’m sure JARVIS would let us out.” At least he hoped. Was she thinking about starting a fire, though? Because while he appreciated some of her more colorful adventures, had even been a part of one or two, he would have to draw the line at arson.

“That isn’t the point. What if something happened to JARVIS, huh? What if he couldn’t open the doors? How would we get out, huh? I don’t see a fire escape anywhere.”

“We’re _Avengers_ , Darce.”

“Well then _Avenge_ us the fuck out of here, Captain.”

“I…can’t,” he admitted finally. “Unless you want to climb through an air vent, but even then I think Clint is probably lurking up there, standing guard.”

“Then do you or do you not agree that we would be screwed if there was a fire?”

“I agree.” He stopped, thinking about the ridiculousness of the conversation. “Why are we arguing about this?”

“I don’t know,” she wailed, throwing herself back against the couch. “It’s almost 3:00 a.m. and I just want to go to bed.”

He reached over and stroked a hand over her hair. “Okay then. Get some rest, and you can even have all the air-conditioning you want.”

“I’d say I hate you, but it feels too nice to feel cool air at night,” she grumbled.

“And in the morning we can think of different ways to dismember Bucky and Clint.”

Darcy perked up. “I do like that idea.”

Steve chuckled and stood up. “You’re bloodthirsty, you know that?”

“I do try.” She settled herself on the couch and refused Steve’s offer to give up his bed. When he tried to insist, she snapped at him, quite crossly, actually, so he’d tossed a pillow and her blanket in her direction and closed his door, trying not to think of Darcy in his living room. Wearing his shirt. And under that, she was _naked_.

“Happy birthday to me,” he muttered. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep—something that had never been a problem before, but he could almost hear her tossing and turning out there on the couch. He tried to pretend that it was just a normal night, that she wasn’t there, but all he could see in his mind were soft curves he ached to touch. He imagined Darcy, over him, around him, that luscious mouth tracing over his skin, and his hand crept into his boxers. Part of him felt guilty. He couldn’t do this, not with her in the next room, but damn it—

The quiet knock on his door had him bolting up, putting both hands on top of the covers guiltily. “Come in,” he called, and Darcy walked in a second later.

“Steve?” she whispered.

“What’s up, Darce?” he asked, voice strained. He flipped on the light on his nightstand. As she walked towards the bed, he couldn’t help but notice that all she was wearing was his shirt. She must have left the robe on the couch.

She sat at the foot of the bed, plucking at the blanket as he sat up. “I just wanted to apologize for being a brat.”

“Hey,” he said with a grin, “you were kidnapped out of your bed and locked in an apartment—“ _naked_ , his mind whispered, but he ignored that, “—I think being a brat is a little warranted, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well you didn’t do the kidnapping or the locking in, so it totally wasn’t fair to take it out on you. So I’m sorry.” She looked up, biting her lip, and Steve smiled. 

“I promise I’ll only bring it up when Tony isn’t around,” he teased. She stuck her tongue out at him and got to her feet.

“That’s all I came to say. Sleep tight, birthday boy.”

“You can sit for a while,” Steve blurted out before he could stop himself, “if you want company.” 

She stopped, and for a moment he was afraid she was going to say no, but then she grinned. “Only if I can share some of that blanket. It’s nice to actually be _cold_ for once.”

He waited as she slipped under the covers beside him, cognizant that they were both mostly naked and in his bed. _Think baseball_ , he thought to himself, trying to call to mind the Brooklyn Dodgers’ batting averages for the 1940 season. It wasn’t working all that well. 

“So…how the heck did they kidnap you?” Steve demanded after a taut moment of silence.

Darcy let out a caustic laugh. “Well even if the security in my building wasn’t shit, they probably wouldn’t have had any trouble breaking in.” Steve made a mental note to see to the security in Darcy’s building as she went on. “I was asleep and the next thing I know, I’m being rolled up in a blanket and tossed over Bucky’s shoulder as they march me right out the front door, past all of the people still celebrating. And, well, you know the rest.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Did they see you naked?”

“As a jaybird,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “Said it was probably better that way. Just so you know, you’re going to be down a best friend and an archer tomorrow morning. Because I’m going to kill them.”

Steve laughed and took her hand consolingly. “I don’t blame you.”

She grinned at him. “You can watch if you’d like.” Darcy sighed, turning her hand so that her fingers twined with his. He wasn’t sure what she meant by it, but he knew that he liked it. A lot. “Not how you were expecting to spend your birthday, huh?”

“I’m turned ninety-five yesterday,” he reminded her with a small smile. “I don’t think I really have expectations on how my birthday should go at this point.”

Darcy snorted. “Point. And who knows? Maybe this is one of those things we’ll look back on later and laugh. I mean, it’s kind of funny in a bizarro ‘your friend and ex-fuck buddy thought you’d make an excellent present for another friend’ kind of way, isn’t it?”

“If it helps, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come home to find a naked dame in my room.” He turned to face her, a laugh on his lips that died when he saw she wasn’t smiling.

“Oh really?” she said, withdrawing her hand, and Steve realized just what his words implied.

“It’s not like that,” he scrambled to explain, his cheeks burning as he caught her fingers once again with his. “Sometimes ladies sneak into our hotel rooms, and a couple of times, they’ve been naked? I never—we never—“

“Right.” 

“I didn’t!” She rolled her eyes at him, but at least she was smiling. He liked her smile. A lot. He realized he saw her staring at him in puzzlement. Apparently she’d asked him a question. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Why would they even think this would be a good birthday present?” 

_I don’t know_. It was on the tip of his tongue. All he had to do was say it and things would be normal. They could laugh about the fact that their friends were completely nuts. But here she was, looking so beautiful and here he was, wanting so badly to kiss her. And so he did. 

It was soft, tentative at first, just enough for the taste of her to seep into his skin and imprint on his memory. And then she opened her mouth to his, deepened the kiss, stroked her tongue against his until they both moaned in delight and sank into the kiss. Their hands stayed where they were, and their only physical connection where his lips on hers, but he felt her in every part of him.

He pulled away first to catch his breath. Her eyes were warm, a smile turning up the corners of her lips. “Really?” she asked, her voice wobbly and a tiny bit uncertain.

He nodded. “Really.” His heart beat a mile a minute as he waited for her to say something, anything else. When she didn’t, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, unable to resist the urge to touch her. “Is that okay?” he asked hesitantly. 

Her smile kicked his heart into another gear as she nodded. “Yeah. More than okay.”

“I—“ he opened his mouth to tell her that liked everything about her, that he wanted to date her, to be with her, when her lips were on his, her fingers in his hair as she shifted on the bed to straddle his lap. This, kissing her, was good, too. And maybe, just maybe, they would have been able to stop at the kissing if his hands hadn’t slipped underneath her shirt—his shirt, really—to find smooth, naked skin. They might have been able to stop if her hands hadn’t found their way into his boxers, wrapping around the hot, hard length of him. And they might have been able to think about stopping if his lips hadn’t found the smooth column of her throat, and if she hadn’t whispered a breathy “please,” in his ear as his tongue worshipped at her neck.

But they had, and then Darcy was peeling off her shirt, and Steve’s lips traced over her breasts, relishing the way her nipples pebbled against his tongue and the way she writhed against him. “Please,” he whispered, dropping little kisses along her breasts as her fingers fisted in his hair. It only took a moment to get rid of his boxers before Darcy groped on the nightstand, trying to find something, anything. It took a moment for Steve to figure out she was reaching for condoms. He grabbed them for her and ripped open one of the foil packets, groaning into her mouth as she kissed him hard, her fingers dexterously working on rolling the condom over his cock. And then she was lowering herself on to him, and his fingers were on her hips, holding tightly as Darcy rode him. He wasn’t so sure how long he’d last as Darcy clenched over him, around him, and all his thoughts focused on making sure she came with him.

He brought his fingers around to play with her clit and it wasn’t long before she cried out his name, clinging tightly to him. He groaned as they came together.

“Damn,” Darcy said two condoms later as she lay slumped on top of Steve. “I feel like it’s _my_ birthday.”

Steve skated his fingers along her spine, liking the way she shivered and cuddled closer to him. “We’ll find a way to top this when your birthday comes along. And it won’t even involve kidnapping.”

“Steve,” she said with a laugh, “my birthday’s in May.”

“I know.”

“You planning on sticking around that long?” 

“If you’ll let me,” he said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. 

Darcy laughed and dropped a kiss on Steve’s collarbone. “I guess I could keep you around. How long do you suppose we’re locked in here for?”

“Knowing Bucky, Clint, and probably even Tony?” Steve scoffed. “Probably a long while. Somewhere you need to be?”

“No.” Darcy grinned and pushed herself off his chest, then reached over to grab another condom. “I just want to celebrate your birthday again.” He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him, and Darcy laughed, pulling his head down for a laughing kiss. “Happy birthday, Steve.”

And it was.


End file.
